The Fable of Neverland
by MidnightFables
Summary: The fairies are gone and Neverland is dying. It's up to Peter and the Lost Boys (now grown to Lost Men) to restore Neverland's life. Their only option is a mysterious fairy creature sent away as a child. Will they be able to resist her? Will she be willing to stay?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay so this is my first Pan story ever. Lemme give you a few disclaimers/warnings. If you are a fan of the Disney version... this may not be for you. It's definitely adult and I don't want you to hate me for growing up the boys. If, after this warning, you still want to continue, do so at your own risk. This story is sort of an AU but not really. You also need to know that in this story the fairies can be small but are most often human-sized. Um... I think that's all for now. Please enjoy!**

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" _What happens if all the fairies die?"_

" _Neverland dies too."_

" _And if Neverland dies?"_

" _I suppose we grow up… Get old… And die as well. But that will never happen."_

Peter remembered the day as if it were just the day before. The day the first fairy died.

No one thought much of it at the time. After all, not everything could last forever. But then came the next… and the one after… Until one by one their precious fairies dwindled to nothing. No on understood why the fairies were dying. No one knew if it was natural or if someone wanted all the fairies dead. But, then again, who in Neverland would want to kill their perfect home?

Peter stayed with the fairies til the end, until the final, beautiful fairy woman took her last breath.

They were Titania's last words that haunted him the most. "This isn't the end, Peter," she gasped. "Find the lost one. She'll heal Neverland."

At the time he didn't think much of it. There were still so many fairies left. But now, now that their homes sat empty and their magic no longer filled the air, Peter wondered what she really meant by that. What lost one? Weren't they all lost boys?

He spent years wondering. He was no longer a lost boy, but a lost man. Without the fairies' magic to rejuvenate them, Peter and his lost boys found themselves growing older. Oh, not quickly, but rather as a boy should. A slow progression from naive child into curious and rather learned young man.

The lack of fairy dust turned all things mortal, save the mermaids who kept mostly to themselves in their lagoon. Peter expected nothing could quite turn the mermaids into anything normal, but they had their uses nonetheless.

Even the Picaninny tribe began to age. First the older, adult clansmen, and then eventually their children. Some had grandchildren now, in what Peter assumed was a natural progression of Mainland living. Without their fairies, Neverland was just another part of the Mainland.

He didn't mind growing up as much as he thought he would. There were very fun things about learning what adults knew. Games and chases might have been fun as a boy, but these new kind of chases and games were even better. They had a much more enjoyable ending, too.

Catching Picaninny women became the newest game between the Lost Boys and the Redskins. The boys didn't mind so much being caught in return, either.

Peter checked the sky and sighed. Any time now, the Redskins would release Nibs, who they caught the day before. He wasn't too concerned about him. Nibs was more warrior than boy anymore. The Picaninny tribe doted on him.

What did worry him were those few sentences Titania gave him so long ago. The lost one. She'll heal neverland. Did she mean a fairy they didn't know about? Surely not. How did one lose a fairy?

Still, he couldn't sit around and do nothing. While Neverland died, so did everything in it. He loved his home too much to let it go to waste. The waterfalls didn't cascade as quickly anymore. The trees didn't wave as cheerily. Something had to be done, and as the only one who seemed to care about his land, Peter was dead set on doing it.

If he had to fly to the Mainland to find some obscure fairy creature, he would do it. He just needed to find a bit more fairy dust. A difficult thing when all the fairies were gone.

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Fable flicked a long braid over her shoulder and spun to retrieve the peppermint stick that the little girl pointed to. It was a favorite among the younger patrons of the shop, so it shouldn't really surprise her.

With a wide smile, Fable set the sweet in a brown paper bag and bent to hold it out to the child. "Don't eat it all at once." She flicked a glance up to the mother, a woman with a disapproving look on her face.

Fable quickly glanced over her own appearance. She didn't think she looked so bad. Everything was covered at least, by her colorful long skirt and whimsical, billowy blouse. No matter, she had other things to see to. Like putting a smile on the small child's face.

The little girl eyed Fable curiously before she reached out to snag the bag. "Are you a princess, miss?"

"No, no." Fable laughed, a tinkering, bell-like sound that many had complimented her on before. "There aren't any princesses here, except you." She tapped the girl's nose. "Why ever would you think so?"

"You're very pretty. You must be a princess." The little girl insisted.

The mother snatched the little girl's arm. "Ingrid, that's enough." She poked her nose in the air precociously and stormed out with her daughter beside her.

Fable sighed and fluttered her way back behind the counter. There were shelves to straighten and candy to taste. Who said a clerk at the local candy shop couldn't sample her favorites now and again?

Another giggle filled the empty space as Fable sneaked a chocolate from its bin and placed it on the center of her tongue. Never in her life had she ever tasted anything as wonderful as chocolate. Fable knew when to enjoy the small things and when to let things go. Chocolate was something she would enjoy forever.

Her nimble fingers set to work straightening bins that visitors had disrupted, aligning shelves they had disarranged. People could be so inconsiderate sometimes, but Fable didn't mind. It gave her something to do while she hummed.

Tunes had always come easily to her, even more so when she learned the wild ways of her soul. She wasn't a woman to be tamed. She wanted to run barefoot in meadows and lift her face so the sun could kiss it. She wanted to bask with flowers and be as wild and free as she could be. Do whatever she wanted.

But, alas, Fable was stuck in a London candy shop instead. Not that she minded it. It was carefree enough. She needn't worry about anyone's opinions, because the children loved her. That was all that mattered. As long as the children were happy, Fable could be happy too.

She learned a long time ago that she couldn't rely on people for her own happiness. Perhaps if she had known her mother or father. If she had grown up in a loving family instead of an orphanage, then she could rely on others for her own happiness. But Fable learned early that she could only rely on herself and should only follow her own dreams. Nothing else would do.

Fable turned to look out into the dingy grey street. This wasn't where she belonged. Part of her always knew that. Her heart longed for something else. Something more.

Her dreams spoke of something far beyond her imagination, but Fable could never quite place what it was. Something in her demanded she seek it out, that she travel until she stumbled across whatever it was her soul demanded of her.

There was something out there desperate for her to find it, desperate to embrace her as its own, but Fable didn't have a clue where to look. And so, until the universe brought her a sign or a sword, she would work in her bright little candy shop and bring smiles to the dark faces of London's youth.


	2. Chapter 2

"How do you fly to the Mainland without fairy dust?"

It was undoubtedly the hardest dilemma Peter ever faced. In order to find their missing fairy creature, they had to fly to the Mainland, but without any fairies they couldn't fly. It had been so long since the birds taught him the secret to flying without fairy magic. Peter didn't know if he could figure it out again.

But if he could find just a little more fairy dust…

"Peter?" Cub reached out to shake his friend's arm. "Peter, where is your head? It's certainly not here with the rest of us."

"Our home is dying, Cub." Peter looked over at the curly-headed young man, wondering when they all grew up so much. "I have to do something."

"I don't think we can." Cub scratched his head. "Not when all the fairies are gone. That's the only thing that can save Neverland now. Fairy dust."

"I don't think all the fairies are gone." Peter confessed quietly. "Titania, with her last breaths, demanded I find the lost one. She insisted that 'she' would save Neverland. I think… I think Titania meant there was a fairy creature who had been sent away."

"Why would anyone send a fairy away from Neverland? That doesn't make sense." Cub shook his head, his eyes wandered away from Peter and out over the still landscape before them. "How would a fairy live on the Mainland?"

"I don't know. That isn't the problem right now." Peter stood and paced the rock outcropping they were perched on. "If I can get to the Mainland, I can find her. And if I can find her, I can bring her back."

"And if you bring her back, Neverland will start to heal." Cub nodded in understanding. "But we'll never go back to the boys we were. We'll still stay this age."

"So Neverland will be a little different. A little more grown." Peter shrugged. "It will still be ours forever."

"Do you think this fairy creature will approve of how Neverland has changed?" Cub asked quietly.

Peter shrugged. "If she has never been here, how will she know it's any different?"

He and Cub shared a laugh before they both fell solemn again. It was no laughing matter, saving Neverland. Everyone's life depended on it, even the dreaded pirates. If Neverland died, what would become of childhood dreams and belief in fairies? What would lost boys do? Neverland had to survive, even if the rest of them died in the saving.

"Peter?" A smaller, almost timid voice called from behind a nearby tree. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation." Bink stepped forward and tugged a leather strap out from around his neck. "If it's to save Neverland, I don't think Tink would mind if I gave this to you."

Peter knit his brow as a small jug rested against his palm. He gingerly opened the seal. A few sparkly tendrils of light leaped from their place. "Fairy dust…"

"The last bit of fairy dust on the island." Bink rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. "It's only enough for a trip or two. You'll need to be careful with it and you'll only get one shot."

"Where did you get this?" Peter looked up, astonished with the generosity Bink showed.

Bink ducked his head bashfully. "If I'm being honest, I found it in Tink's house after she… anyway, I thought she'd want us to have it. So I kept it in case we needed it." He shrugged. "Sounds a lot like we need it."

"Bink, thank you." Peter smiled for the first time in a long time. "Thank you so very much!"

Bink grinned and shrugged his shoulders as if it were nothing. "Go find our fairy, Peter. We all need her."

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Fable rushed to fill all the orders given her and slid bag after bag across the counter. Closing time was always the busiest, but today seemed far too busy. Did something happen that made everyone rush to her store for candy? Did they have to be so impatient?

Fable stuffed another chocolate in a box, sealed it, and handed it to the snooty woman across from her. If she had less manners, Fable would have half a mind to spit on the sweets first, just to get a little revenge later. But she was raised better than that, so she let it go for now.

It took longer than she would have liked to deal with the end of the customers and send them on their way, but it was okay. The smiling children made it all worth it. How could anyone think there wasn't magic in the world when little ones smiled like that?

Fable locked up the shop and opened the door beside it. The door that would lead up to her flat. It wasn't much, but it was hers. She tried to make it homey, but somehow it wasn't enough colors or whimsy. She didn't understand why she could never be satisfied with what she had. Why did she always need more? She should be happy just to have a job at this juncture.

The universe truly was a strange place.

Fable stretched her arms over her head as her door shut behind her. Finally. Home. A cozy little nest filled with trinkets and pillows and shiny things. She never could resist a good shiny thing. Fable took a running start and threw herself onto the pile of pillows that served as her bed. Why buy such a trivial thing when pillows were so much cheaper?

She relaxed there, letting her fingers unweave the braids in her long blonde hair. It was so soothing, being home and away from the rush and bustle of the London streets. Why couldn't everything be so relaxing as taking a night's rest?

Something thudded against the roof.

Fable frowned and looked up, as if that alone could tell her exactly what happened. It was probably some beggar running from the coppers again. They always thought the rooftops were an easy escape route. She sighed and settled back in against her pillows.

This time the thud came from the hall. Something crashed against her front door.

Fable shot to her feet and stared at the closed door with wide eyes. She wasn't particularly a scaredy-cat, but that didn't sound too good to her. Inch by silent inch, she made her way back to her door. Somewhere along the way, she picked up an umbrella and wielded it like a bat. Just in case.

"Calm down, Fable…" she instructed herself quietly. "It can't be so bad." Her fingers reached out to tuck themselves around the door handle. With one final inhalation, Fable tugged it open.

A small yelp escaped her as a large body crashed against her entryway rug. Fable skittered back a few steps and pressed a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart.

The man on her floor couldn't be many years older than her, but he was of a different league entirely. His hair hung shaggy around a chiseled face, his lips forming a perfect, plump bow. His shirt barely covered his wide shoulders and the neck dipped low to showcase his muscular chest. How did he get here and what was his plan?

Fable reached out with the tip of the umbrella and poked at his shoulder, wondering if he was really unconscious or if he had other plans. London wasn't a safe place nowadays, but… something told her he didn't hail from London. Not at all.

When he didn't move an inch, even after several prods from her umbrella, Fable decided he probably needed some form of attention. With yet another sigh, she tossed the umbrella aside and tucked her hands under his arms.

It took too much tugging and far more stumbles and falls than she liked, but eventually Fable managed to drag him in and over to her bed of pillows. He looked odd, draped out over her colors and sparkles, but at least he'd be comfortable until he woke.

Now if only she knew what to do next.


End file.
